


Up For It

by ItsJustALittleRain (MortalCyn)



Series: It Started Out With A Kiss [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Time, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 13:28:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14497986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MortalCyn/pseuds/ItsJustALittleRain
Summary: Tired of waiting for Castiel to make his move, Dean decides to let the angel know exactly what he wants. In hindsight, he probably should've picked a safe-word.





	Up For It

**Author's Note:**

> Seventh story in the It Started Out With A Kiss series, depicting the formation and progression of a relationship between Dean and Castiel. Takes place after the events of The New Routine. I also think it makes sense as a stand-alone, even if you haven't read any of the other stories yet. Essentially smut with an underlying emotional connection. Plot will resume in the next installment.
> 
> Once again, any and all feedback, whether reviews or kudos, is greatly appreciated!

The small hand basket sat on the floor near Dean’s feet as he stood in the aisle, the only customer in the mid-sized convenience store. He’d already gathered the things he told Sam he needed, tossing them absently into the basket while his brother paid for the gas and returned to the Impala. _Pie, check. Chips, check. Jerky, check._ He’d even grabbed a bottle of aspirin to play it safe, since he wasn’t sure how much they had back at the bunker. There was only one thing left to get, the real reason he had decided to make this little supply run even though they already had a decent amount of snacks on hand. 

A multitude of boxes and bottles stood before him, their multicolored packaging resting haphazardly upon the shelves. They had no doubt been shuffled through recently, given that it was Saturday night and he was hardly the only person in town on a mission to get laid. As Dean looked over the wide variety of contraceptives, personal lubricants, and pregnancy tests on display he found himself mentally transported back to his teenage years. 

It seemed like a lifetime ago, buying condoms for his early ventures into lovemaking. The particular details had long since faded from memory, but he was sure he had never felt the apprehension that was creeping over him now. It used to make him laugh, hearing about how the other guys his age would freeze up at the zero hour, and resort to shoplifting rather than facing the clerk like a man. It had always been easy for him, no doubt motivated by the knowledge that the only thing more terrifying than monsters waiting to tear into your flesh, was the response he’d get from his dad if he turned him into a grandfather before his time. _I guess that’s not something that either of us has to worry about._

He wasn’t buying condoms tonight. He had at least half a pack leftover from when he was still unattached, before he and Cas had gotten involved. He’d always used them with his past partners, but he didn’t think their particular situation called for it. Cas was impervious to human diseases, of which Dean thankfully had none to begin with. Having ruled out the risk of procreation or unpleasant burning sensations, there was no real reason to use them. He also had to admit that he was put off by how impersonal it would feel if he did. This wasn’t some random hook-up or a one-night stand. This was Cas. If this was something he was going to experience, Dean wanted to experience it fully. Anything less would be disrespectful.

Dean lowered his eyes to the next shelf, the slow building nervousness ratcheting up incrementally the longer he stared. It didn’t help that he was aware he had been standing in the aisle for a little too long. Not long enough to look weird yet, although he guessed maybe that would change if there were more people in the store to notice him in the first place. However, he had been there almost long enough to start seriously second guessing his plan. The fact that he even had to be the one with a plan grated on him. For once, he just wished that Cas would take the initiative already, but here he was, yet again, at the mercy of his hormones, reacting to the angel’s latest act of sexually repressed warfare. 

It had been an accident to be fair, Dean was sure of that much at least. It was only meant to be another shower handjob, his preferred method of saying goodbye to Cas in the mornings before they both went off on their separate ways. Sam knew well enough by now to avoid the bunker shower room when the door was locked, and so they had it worked out almost to a science, timing it just so they both got what they needed before the water turned cold.

Only Dean had gotten impatient. He’d been too focused on chasing his orgasm, not content to simply let Cas take his time in this instance. Too much hip movement on his part, hands braced against the wall, thrusting into that perfect grip, so lost in the moment, arching back just right, and then the inadvertent slide of cock, warm and hard, between the sudsy cheeks of his ass. The head had caught him entirely unaware, brushing firmly against that sweet spot between the known and the unknown, all those nerve endings flaring into life and sending his libido into overdrive. The sensation had pushed him past needing release to downright starving for it, his mouth going dry and his skin on fire. But what had really gotten to him, making him embarrassingly light-headed and weak in the knees had been the reaction he’d gotten out of Cas.

He’d felt the open mouthed gasp against his shoulder, just as the fingers holding onto his hip clenched into his flesh hard enough to leave bruises. The full body shudder, strong enough to throw them both off balance, his stance faltering slightly. And then the growl against the back of his neck, low and hungry. Dean hadn’t thought he could be any more turned on than he already was, but he’d been wrong. _Welp, this is it,_ he’d thought, his heart pounding. _This is the day that I get fucked._ The thought filled him with a strange mixture of fear and excitement. As nervous as it made him, he knew that it would be the true test of whether or not this thing between him and Cas had any real chance of succeeding. If he could handle that, he could handle anything. 

Dean hadn’t been sure if he was more relieved or disappointed, when instead of making any move to further consummate their relationship, Cas had spun him around to face him and backed him hard against the wall. Without missing a beat, he’d taken both of their cocks in hand, stroking them together with rhythmic perfection, his lips seeking Dean’s. His tongue slipping into his mouth as easily as his cock had slipped between his cheeks just moments earlier, his hands gliding so fast Dean couldn’t even keep up with it all. The climax had shattered him, his legs almost entirely giving out if not for the way that Cas had him pinned against the wall, their cum mingling together and sliding down between them as the water rolled over their skin. And though the orgasm had been beyond good, both of them coming harder than Dean could recall in recent memory, he’d found himself wondering just how much longer they were going to keep holding back from something that was clearly of increasing interest to them both.

The memory alone was enough to get him half-hard, and he quickly pushed it from his thoughts. Lurking around a convenience store at night with a visible erection was a good way to get the cops called on your ass. Not to mention how hard of a time he’d have hiding that from Sam during the drive home. Speaking of which, he probably only had about another five minutes or so before his brother wandered into the store to find out just what the hell was taking him so long. Dean had always prided himself on his decision-making skills. When it came to hunting, or working a case he had an uncanny ability to make the tough choices, but this was something else entirely. With some effort he returned his attention to the shelf in front of him, trying to make the most objective possible decision based on the facts at hand. _I’ll take things I never thought I’d need to buy for 500, Alex._

He looked back and forth between the Astroglide and the KY, trying to discern which would be the ideal choice for their situation. _Who the heck knew there were so many different kinds?_ His eyes fell on the warming lube, which he quickly disqualified. With Cas’ inhuman body heat things were already plenty warm enough. Add warming lube and friction to that, and Dean felt he was liable to catch on fire. He let out a snort of nervous laughter, which earned him a strange look from the clerk. Quickly, he composed himself and resumed looking over the other varieties.

_Waterproof… Might need that eventually but not yet. Stick to the basics. Strawberry… Could also be interesting. Maybe later. Coconut scented… Sheesh. Since when does sex smell like a piña colada?_

After deciding to keep things as simple as possible for their first and hopefully not last attempt at this venture, Dean settled on the original Astroglide. _Can’t go wrong with the classics._ He reached for the bottle and paused, considering. _How much do we need? One should be enough, right? But what if one isn’t enough?_ The thought of either one of them having to make a supply run in the heat of the moment was anything but comical. He grabbed two bottles and tossed them in the hand basket. _Two should be plenty, but maybe I should get another one just in case things go well._ He reached for a third bottle and stopped. _But what if they don’t…_ There was always the possibility that in spite of everything, for whatever reason, having sex with Cas just might not work out for him. In which case, that was a lot of wasted lube. _Then again, I could always use it for pranking Sammy._ There was nothing like a little unidentified gel smeared strategically upon various door handles to provide hours of amusement.

The sudden jingle of the door chimes caused Dean’s heart to skip a beat, so certain was he that any moment now, Sam’s gigantic frame would be looming over him, finally coming to see whether or not he’d been taken hostage. He could already picture it, the involuntary cringe and secondhand embarrassment that his brother tried so hard to hide, bless his heart. 

Luckily the newcomer turned out to be a stranger who was far more interested in purchasing scratch-off tickets than venturing down the aisle Dean had all but taken up residence in. He let out a relieved breath and straightened up, nonetheless recognizing a sign when he saw one. Sam had been incredibly understanding about his situation with Cas, but he still didn’t need to be privy to every little milestone in their relationship. Dean picked up his hand basket and walked over to the register. 

“How’s it going?” he asked the clerk. _Nothing to see here. Just a guy buying some snacks and a couple bottles of lube. Typical Saturday night._

The clerk shrugged with the noncommittal air of someone who was simply counting down the hours until his shift was over.

 _Well damn,_ Dean mused. Cas had been a much better convenience store employee during his brief foray into the working world, and the guy hadn’t even had the benefit of a human upbringing. _Oh well._ He began to unload the basket, placing his purchases on the counter. More out of nervousness than out of any genuine interest, he pointed towards the skin mags behind the counter. “Do me a favor and toss in one of those Busty Asian Beauties, would you? Thanks.”

That finally earned the attention of the other customer, who glanced up from his pile of scratch-off tickets to take inventory of the rest of Dean’s purchases. “I was a fool to get married.”

“Huh?” Dean turned towards the man. “What are you talking about?”

The man gestured towards the bottles of Astroglide. “I’ve been trying to get my wife to do anal for fifteen years.” He sighed wistfully as the disinterested clerk scanned the bar codes and placed them in the bag. “Every now and then, when we’ve both had a few too many, I try to slip it in without her noticing, but she always does.” He rolled his eyes and returned his attention to his pile of tickets. “Makes a huge deal about it, and then I get the cold shoulder for a month. So much for wedded bliss.” He shook his head. “Some guys have all the luck.”

Dean barely managed to suppress the urge to pistol-whip the guy for having such an incredibly shitty personality. “First of all,” he said coldly. “What you just described, that’s called assault. You’re lucky your wife doesn’t have your ass arrested, you little creep. Second of all, I hope you win one of those jackpots, and then your wife divorces you and takes every last dime. I really do. How’s that for luck?”

“I was just trying to make conversation,” the guy mumbled, his face reddening. “No need to get bent out of shape.”

“How about you just get bent,” Dean shot back. “Shut the hell up before I give in to my natural inclination to kick your ass.”

Not needing another warning, the man quickly gathered his tickets and left the store.

With an eyeroll, Dean turned back to the clerk who was doing a fairly decent job of hiding his amusement. “How much do I owe you?”

“46.98,” replied the clerk, with a faint smile. “No charge for the magazine on account of you putting that asshole in his place. If I could only say half the things I wanted to…” He accepted the fifty from Dean and handed back his change. “Let’s just say, I need this job.”

 _Guess I misjudged the kid,_ Dean mused. He pressed the change into the small tip jar beside the register and gave a nod as he collected the bag. “Well, you have a good night.”

“Thanks. You too,” the clerk said, returning the nod.

 _That’s the plan._ Dean opened the door and stepped outside, starting to head towards the car. Remembering his purchases, he paused beside the building and opened the bag, quickly tucking the bottles of lubricant into his jacket pockets, just to be on the safe side. Once he was satisfied that they weren’t going to fall out while he was driving, he continued across the parking lot, reaching the impala and unlocking the door.

“Took you long enough,” Sam said, once Dean had settled into the driver’s seat. “What the heck were you doing in there? Waiting for them to bake the pie from scratch?”

Dean rolled his eyes and tossed his bag into the back seat, knowing that nothing less than annoyance would keep Sam’s suspicions from flaring up. “You timing me now?”

“No,” Sam replied. “Like I said, you were in there for a while. I thought I was going to have to come and get you.”

“I couldn’t decide on the snacks,” Dean said, as he started the engine. “You try choosing between sweet teriyaki and Memphis dry rub.”

 

* * *

 

The drive back to the bunker was far too quick. They made every green light and railroad crossing, giving Dean no chances to stop and reflect on the next step in his plan. By the time he pulled into the bunker garage he was of half a mind to forget the entire thing. _Why should I have to be the one to bring it up? We’re both adults. He should be the one to say something for a change._

“Hey,” Sam said, cutting into his thoughts as they descended the bunker steps. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Dean replied. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’ve barely said two words since we left the store,” Sam explained. “And you look like you’ve got a lot on your mind. Just wanted to make sure everything was alright.”

Dean briefly considered telling Sam just what was on his mind, and then decided against it. _Trust me, the less you know, the better._ “I’m good,” he assured him. “Everything is fine.” He absently tossed the bag onto the table. “You can save your brooding expression for when it really matters.”

Sam shot his brother a look, but remained silent and reached for the jerky. “I see you decided on sweet teriyaki,” he remarked, taking the snacks out of the bag. “You want to cut the pie?”

“Nah,” Dean replied distractedly, already running through a hundred scenarios on how to best bring things up with Cas. “I’m actually going to make a night of it. I’ll see you in the morning.” He started walking down the hall towards his room, his mind spinning.

“Hey,” Sam called. “You forgot your copy of… Busty Asian Beauties.”

Dean cringed. _Crap. Forgot about that stupid thing._ He turned and walked back into the room, refusing to acknowledge the humorous note in Sam’s tone. “Don’t judge me. Just because you commit to someone, that doesn’t mean that your eyes stop working.” He took the magazine from Sam, even though he had less than zero interest in its contents. He turned to leave again.

Sam cleared his throat. “And your receipt.”

Dean cringed again. _Welp. So much for discretion._ He gave his brother a cautious sideways glance, not quite knowing what to expect. He was relieved to see that there was neither humor nor judgment in his expression. Sam looked no more fazed than if he’d bought two bags of rock salt rather than bottles of personal lubricant. The acceptance was comforting. “I don’t need it,” he said after a moment. “Sex stuff is non-refundable, and it’s not like I’m gonna write it off on my taxes.”

That did earn a snicker from Sam, but there was no teasing in it. “Okay,” he said. “See you in the morning.”

As he headed down the hall to his room, Dean wondered not for the first time just how he would’ve behaved if their positions were reversed, if Cas had in fact chosen his brother instead. Something told him that he wouldn’t have so easily passed up on the numerous golden opportunities that Sam declined to roast him into oblivion, but then again who could say. Cas had made his choice at any rate, years ago, and Dean had made his. True, it was a choice a long time in coming, but better late than never.

Dean absently tossed the magazine onto the corner of his desk, mentally making a note to at least give it a cursory look over one day before throwing it out, so that it wouldn’t be a complete waste of paper. He reached into his pockets and pulled out the Astroglide, planning to set them on the desk, and then hesitating. _What if Cas walks in and just sees them sitting there, like a flashing neon sign... Too much?_ He glanced around and then decided on his dresser. After placing one bottle in the top drawer and the other in the bottom drawer, he took his jacket off and slung it over the back of his chair, before stripping down for the night.

 _Now what?_ Dean mused, settling into the bed. _Should I call him? ...Nah._ There was no sense in making a production out of it. Besides, he still wasn’t certain if he was entirely ready to give this particular endeavor a shot, despite his undeniable interest. Dean wasn’t naïve. Since he’d gotten together with Cas, he’d browsed through a few videos on Sam’s laptop here and there, being careful each time to delete the browser history. He had some idea of what to expect, or at least what to expect if his partner were a human, but given that Cas was anything but, that left a lot of unanswered questions.

Dean could recall being curious about what Cas would be like in bed way back before he would ever even admit to considering such a thing. It had seemed blasphemous in the extreme, the concept of an angel engaging in this most human of activities. Yet he’d often wondered whether or not an eternity of observation could make up for a lack of hands-on experience. It was a deep personal interest of his that while waning from time to time over the years, depending on the direness of their circumstances, never went entirely away, even though opportunities to have his question answered were few and far between.

Dean still remembered his disastrous attempt to get Cas laid years ago with the help of a professional. At the time he’d convinced himself that he was doing the angel a favor by treating him to a call girl, just giving him a last night on earth sort of send off before Raphael smote them both into dust. And as hilarious as the aftermath had been, so much so that he didn’t even mind getting banned from a pretty decent brothel, he’d felt a pang of real disappointment, because that had been his chance to vicariously discover just what kind of an experience one could expect from someone like him. _I guess I’ll find out soon enough…_

The one thing Dean hadn’t counted on was actually falling asleep. He awoke in the middle of the night, his room dark, and his grogginess fading as he remembered that he was supposed to be waiting for Cas. _It must’ve been all the nerves, wearing me out._ He could feel from the warmth against his back that Cas had indeed returned while he was out, settling in gently so as not to disturb him.

 _Well, I’m up now._ He still wasn’t sure if he was one hundred percent ready, but maybe he never would be until he gave it a go. _Here goes nothing._ “Cas, you awake?”

Even though they weren’t facing each other, Dean could tell that Castiel was giving him one of his most sarcastic expressions.

“Never mind,” Dean said quickly, before whatever zinger Cas was readying for him could be deployed. He took a breath. “Anyway, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something...” He had barely finished his sentence before he registered an immediate lack of warm weight at his back and realized that Cas was now sitting in his desk chair fully dressed.

“You wish to terminate our physical involvement,” Castiel sighed, his tone resigned. “Very well. As much as it displeases me, I will respect your decision.”

 _Wait, what?!_ Dean reeled, his mind struggling to catch up. _Right off the bat, this is not going the way that I wanted._ “Okay, first of all, no teleporting or flying or whatever in my room,” he said, sitting up. “It’s just plain unnecessary. It would’ve taken you like two seconds to physically walk over there. And second of all, what the hell gives you that idea?!”

“I could sense your tension,” Castiel explained. “Your anxiety. I felt it in your muscles, even as you slept. I thought that I would stay one last night with you, and hear your decision in the morning." He stood up. "However, since you have awakened, there is no need—”

“Cas,” Dean cut in, his heart starting to race. "The reason that I'm anxious, it's not what you think." _The one time I wish that he would actually read my mind!_ He hurriedly switched on the bedside lamp, well aware of his angel's penchant for sudden dramatic exits. “Believe me, the thought of ending things with you couldn’t be further from my mind. How in the hell could you even come to that conclusion…” He followed Cas' eyeline. _Oh crap._ “Look, I didn’t even want that magazine, if that’s what you’re thinking. And even if I did, that doesn’t mean that I don’t want you more.”

“Alright,” Castiel replied after a moment.

Dean could see from the furrowed brows that Cas was still far from convinced. _Welp, guess it’s time to put up or shut up._ “Do me a favor,” he said. “I want you to bring me something from my dresser. Top drawer, left corner, clear bottle.”

Castiel gave Dean a look of confusion before walking over to the dresser. Dean waited anxiously as he removed the medium sized clear bottle with a purple label. Castiel carefully inspected the container, examining the list of ingredients and trying to remember if he had ever seen the word Astroglide on anything else before.

“It’s lube,” Dean explained, picking up on Cas’ unspoken question. “I figured I’d better pick some up after what happened in the shower the other day.” He cleared his throat. “Not something that I usually bother with because the chicks I deal with typically don’t need it, but well…” He gestured towards himself and back to Cas before letting his hand drop.

“Neither of us is a woman,” Castiel finished. 

“Yeah. Exactly.” Dean was pretty sure that he had never been this nervous before in his life, which given his line of work was pretty damn worrisome. He rubbed at his temple, trying to force his pulse to stop racing. “From what I’ve heard it’s a pretty popular brand,” he mumbled, looking everywhere else but at Cas. 

Castiel leaned his head to side and studied Dean for a moment.

“Anyway,” Dean said, still not meeting Cas’ eyes. “Now you know why I’ve been a little on edge. I bought that earlier tonight, and I fell asleep trying to think of a way to tell you.”

“So you do not wish to terminate our romantic involvement?” Castiel asked.

“No,” Dean replied, returning his eyes to Cas. “And I’m actually sort of pissed that you automatically jumped to that conclusion. Does anything about me strike you as a quitter?”

Castiel shook his head. “Of course not. I have never met anyone, angel nor human, with as much determination as you possess.”

 _That’s one word for it._ Dean took a breath. “In that case, what would you think if I told you that I wanted us to go all in?” He ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, full out, no holds barred… sex,” he finished. “What would you say to that?”

Castiel looked at Dean, surprised. “I… didn’t think you would be open to that. I thought…” He paused for a moment. “I thought it might be asking too much of you.” 

Dean ran a hand through his hair again, relieved. “So you _have_ thought about it? Just so that we’re clear.”

“You think that I _haven’t_ thought about it?” Castiel asked, eyebrows raised. “I am somewhat ashamed to admit that I often think of little else these days. I hope that it doesn’t frighten you when I say that it has become something of a singular obsession.”

Dean attempted to ignore the way his dick twitched at the suggestive tone in Cas’ voice. “It’s just, you never mentioned it, so I wasn't sure if you were working your way up to it, or if maybe it didn’t really interest you as much. I don’t know.”

“I decided that I would wait for you to make the suggestion,” Castiel explained. He glanced down at the bottle of lube in his hand. “If it was indeed what you wanted, I preferred for you to be the one to bring it up, rather than trying to push you into something that you might not be comfortable with.” 

_Of course,_ Dean realized. That was how Cas operated. He always took his cues from Dean, sometimes with less than ideal results. His earlier annoyance at always having to be the one to initiate things seemed so stupid in hindsight. _If it was up to Cas, we probably would’ve done this eight years ago._ But they hadn’t because Dean had never given him the signal to take it there. _How crazy is it that as messed up as the two of us are, we’re already in a healthier place than that asshole from the store and his poor wife..._ Dean cleared his throat. “In that case, can I just say thanks.”

“For what?” Castiel asked.

Dean sighed. “For not just going for it, and...” He rolled his eyes. “To borrow a phrase from an asshole I ran into earlier, ‘trying to slip it in unnoticed.’ Although, if you had tried, I most definitely would’ve noticed. Now I understand why Jimmy’s wife didn’t want to let him go, just saying.”

Castiel shot Dean an annoyed look.

“What?” Dean joked, trying to keep things light. “Too soon?”

Castiel shook his head and let out a grudging chuckle.

 _That’s a good sign._ “So? What do you say?” Dean continued. “Don’t get me wrong, I love everything we’ve done so far. I mean, _really love it._ But I’m kinda starting to feel like I’m stuck on third base here. A man can’t live off hand jobs alone, even if they are some of the best I’ve ever received in my life. I need a little more variety, if you catch my drift.”

“If you are truly certain,” Castiel said after a moment. “I will do my best to accommodate your wishes.”

“Well, I’m telling you now, it’s what I want tonight,” Dean confirmed. He raised a hand. “Fair warning, I might be singing an entirely different tune in the morning, depending on how things shake out, but for right now anyway… I’m up for it, if you are.”

Castiel’s eyes flashed. “I am most certainly up for it.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Dean quipped, glancing down. “A tad overdressed for the occasion, though— or not,” he finished, when Cas instantly undressed, leaving his clothes neatly folded on top of the desk. “Nice party trick.” He stared openly as Cas approached, arousal and anxiety filling him in equal measure. He hoped that Cas couldn’t hear his heart pounding.

Castiel knelt beside Dean on the bed. “Dean, listen to me,” he said quietly, confirming that he could in fact hear the way Dean’s heart was attempting to escape from his chest. “This… us… I never truly believed that we would ever find ourselves here,” he confessed. “Regardless of my feelings for you, I was content to merely remain your friend. I always considered it an honor, and that alone was enough for me.” He set the bottle of lube aside, not missing the way Dean’s eyes followed the movement. “The events that have recently transpired have more than exceeded my expectations. Just as before, I am content to simply be near you in any manner you choose.” He gently nudged Dean’s chin to look into his eyes. “It is alright if you have changed your mind.”

Dean let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. This was getting dangerous. He could sense that they were both coming close to an emotional revelation that he wasn’t quite ready to fully unpack just yet. _Focus on the sex._ “The way I see it, it’s 50/50,” he said. “Either we try it, and I hate it, in which case we never do it again and pretend like this conversation never happened. Or we try it and I don’t hate it, in which case…” He shrugged. “It’s just… You’re gonna have to be the one to take the lead here, because I honestly wouldn’t even know where to start with you. And I figured that since you already know my body pretty well… I mean, you basically rebuilt me from scratch.” He swallowed. “Cas, what I’m trying to say is—” He took a deep breath, willing his nerves to calm down. “I trust you.”

The air pressure in the room seemed to change suddenly, giving Dean the improbable impression that it was going to rain indoors.

In the next moment Dean found himself flat on his back, with the solid weight of his angel pinning him to the bed. He could feel the hardness of Cas’ erection pressing insistently against his stomach. _This is really going to happen._ He distantly recalled Jimmy Novak’s statement about how having Castiel inside him was like being chained to a comet. _I just hope it doesn’t friggin kill me._ “Um Cas?”

A low growl against his neck was the reply.

 _And damned if that isn’t hot as hell._ Dean shuddered. “Probably should’ve asked this first, but on a scale of one to ten, how dangerous is this? What we’re about to do?”

“Extremely,” Castiel murmured against Dean’s skin. He lifted up and gazed down at the hunter. “Have you changed your mind?”

“Hell no,” Dean replied, finding it difficult not to squirm from the look that Cas was giving him. “And why do you keep asking me that, huh? First you ask me if I want to end this thing we’ve got going, and now you’re trying to talk me out of getting laid?” he joked, trying to downplay his residual nervousness. “Have you changed _your_ mind?”

Castiel raised an eyebrow.

“What? Are you trying to give me some kind of a hint?” Dean teased, starting to feel somewhat more confident about his situation. True, this would be his first go round with a non-female, non-human partner, but at the end of the day, sex was sex and he had way more experience than Cas in that department. _He might be an angel, but he’s been practically living like a monk. I can handle this._

Without changing his expression, Castiel pressed his palm to Dean’s shoulder brand.

The orgasm slammed into Dean with all the force of a freight train. Pure sensory overload so absolute that it would’ve been unbearable if it didn’t feel so damn good. His eyes squeezed shut as he arched back into the mattress, his entire body tensing beneath Cas’ weight. _Holy fuck..._ “That’s not fair,” he breathed, suddenly finding the effort to even speak nearly impossible. _I am in way over my head._

Castiel leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of Dean’s ear as he kept his palm on the brand, continuing to pulse intermittent waves of energy throughout the hunter’s body. “Make no mistake, I do not take this lightly. It is my intention to utterly ruin you for anyone else.” He sucked a strawberry bruise into the skin between Dean’s neck and shoulder, relishing the way he grabbed onto his arm and dug his fingers in.

Dean gripped onto Cas’ arm so hard his knuckles began to turn white. “Pretty sure I’m halfway there already,” he managed, his eyes still closed. He allowed Cas to turn his head to the side and let out a low moan as the angel began to teasingly nip along his neck and jaw line. “I wasn’t lying about the magazine. I haven’t even… looked at another person since you and me started doing… whatever this is that we’re doing.”

“You may look as much as you like,” Castiel assured him, his voice low. “It won’t make a single bit of difference once I’ve had you.” 

Under other circumstances Dean would’ve had a snarky remark at the ready, but it was becoming increasingly impossible to focus on anything with the way Cas’ palm was still resting against his shoulder, shooting tingles throughout his frame. _Son of a bitch…_ He drew in a breath of relief as Cas finally lifted his hand, giving one last brush of the thumb against his skin. He was utterly unsurprised to feel himself getting hard again, the realization that this was going to be a long night finally setting in. 

The sound of a bottle being snapped open caught his immediate attention.

Dean glanced down just in time to see Cas slicking both of their erections with a generous coating of lube. “Fuck,” he hissed under his breath as Cas began to rut against him, dragging their cocks together, his own still sensitive from the previous release.

“That’s the plan,” Castiel growled in Dean’s ear. He kissed Dean’s jaw and moved further down the bed, settling himself into position. He grabbed hold of the hunter’s thighs and dragged him close, humming approvingly at the boneless way Dean allowed himself to be moved. “It is important that you remain relaxed.”

Dean nodded weakly. “That much I already know, Cas. Thanks.” He quietly waited as Cas spread his legs. The chill of the lube was slightly jarring and he briefly wished that he had gotten the warming one instead as he felt it being stroked over his entrance. _This is it,_ he thought, feeling calmer than he figured he would be, expecting to be getting pounded into the mattress any second now.

Castiel had other ideas. He traced his slick finger around the tight whorl, slowly circling and teasing the sensitive nerve endings.

“What—” Dean huffed, his stomach tensing from the supreme effort not to squirm around uncontrollably, “—the hell are you doing?”

“Now Dean, I thought you trusted me.” Castiel pressed the pad of his fingertip against Dean’s entrance, watching intently as the hunter closed his eyes in relief only to open them again and glare when he pulled back. He chuckled. “Are you always this impatient?”

“Actually no,” Dean admitted. “I guess you just bring that out in me.” He huffed out a quiet breath as a single finger finally penetrated him. _This really isn’t so bad._ Entered by a second finger, he still didn’t find it that uncomfortable. Then the stretching began and Dean understood why Cas had wanted him relaxed first.

Castiel worked his fingers in carefully, opening them, scissoring and slowly stretching the tight passage. Every part of him was aching for Dean on a level that no human would be able to endure, but an eon of quiet observation had prepared him well. Having watched the human species procreate for billions of years absent interest, only to at last find himself in possession of the one mortal in his long existence whom he felt drawn to, he could afford to be patient.

The same could not be said for Dean, as he stared up at the ceiling, trying to give himself over fully to the experience. A tiny part of him was wishing that Cas would just skip the foreplay and fuck him already, because even if it did hurt like hell, it would be easier to process. This, what he was doing to him now, was intensely personal. Almost worshipful, and that sort of attention always made Dean uncomfortable. Sex he could handle, intimacy on the other hand, was more of a challenge. A kiss pressed against his inner thigh caused him to shudder and look down.

Castiel stared back at Dean, his eyes more intense than the hunter had ever seen them. 

Dean sucked in a breath. “Cas, if I forget to tell you later, you look fucking hot when you get like this.”

Castiel worked in a third finger, listening to the deepening of Dean’s breathing. “Thank you.”

Dean shifted reflexively as he felt Cas brush against his prostate. His hips moved of their own accord and he began to bear down on Cas’ fingers, welcoming the pleasurable burn of the stretch. “Fuck… that’s good…”

Castiel poured more lube into his hand and slowly worked in a fourth finger, carefully watching Dean for the slightest sign of discomfort. 

Dean winced briefly but continued to bear down. He couldn’t deny that it felt strange, but not necessarily in a bad way. The pressure against his prostate was almost too much at this point, his cock was steadily leaking precum. He glanced down just in time to see Cas lick a few drops off his lower belly. “Fuck,” Dean groaned, his hips twitching.

“You keep repeating that word,” Castiel murmured, his lips against Dean’s skin. “Are you trying to give me some kind of a hint?”

Not willing to let yet another smartass remark from Cas go unchallenged, Dean leaned up on his elbows and glared down at his partner. “Here’s a hint, Cas. Stop playing with my ass and fuck me already, before I throw you out of my room so that I can jerk off and go to sleep.”

Castiel looked up at Dean.

 _Uh oh,_ Dean thought. _I know that look. That is not a good look._

“Is that an order?” Castiel asked, his voice dangerously low.

“Hell no,” Dean stammered, noticing the feral way Cas was staring at him. “Just saying that I’m ready whenever you are.”

With the utmost gentleness Castiel pulled his fingers out of his hunter. He locked eyes with Dean as he picked up the bottle and poured a generous amount of lube onto his cock, slicking it down with deliberate slowness.

Dean broke eye contact to watch, his pulse racing. _Maybe I should’ve come up with a safe word._

“Dean,” Castiel said, seeming to read his mind. “Even now, if you are uncertain…”

“Cas, you might know my body better than I do, but I know my own mind and I know what I want,” Dean said, quietly settling the last of his anxiousness. “Don’t make me say it again.”

Castiel set the bottle aside and finally positioned himself between Dean’s thighs, gazing down at his partner. "Your will, my hands." He held eye contact as he lined himself up and began to push forward into that tight heat.

Dean bit down on his fist, his teeth grazing against his knuckles as Cas slowly sank into him. The angel took his sweet time, feeding him each inch with agonizing slowness. He was suddenly very grateful for the foreplay. 

Castiel bottomed out and held still, buried to the hilt inside Dean. Gently he caressed up his thighs, his sides, his arms, and tugged his fist away from his mouth before bringing it to his own lips. He lightly kissed over the scraped knuckles, healing the small cuts with a swipe of tongue. “How do you feel?”

“I…” Dean closed his eyes for a moment. He swallowed. “I’m good. It’s different, but...” The grip of Cas’ hand on his dick caused what little thoughts he was forming to scatter completely.

Castiel stroked Dean’s cock with brutal efficiency. He dragged his thumb against the underside, keeping the pressure on even as the hunter’s hips began to twist, to seek a reprieve from the intensity of the stimulation. His other hand he used to pin Dean down, keeping him effortlessly in place.

“Cas,” Dean gasped out. “What—oh fuck…” The first slam of hips left him breathless. Cas’ hands on him had felt so good he’d somehow forgotten about the cock inside of him. _Distracted me—_

Castiel groaned softly as Dean squirmed against him. He tightened his grip as he drew his hips back again, savoring the way Dean clenched down around him. “And now? How do you feel?” He rocked forward with another thrust, a direct hit on Dean’s prostate.

Dean balled his fists into the sheets. “Can’t think—” His words melted into a string of moans as he came violently, hips thrashing despite Cas’ hands on his body. He shook with tremors, clenching with every spasm.

Castiel closed his eyes as Dean squeezed down around him, wanting so badly to lose himself in his hunter, but he remained mindful of the differences between them. 

Through his haze Dean could feel the careful way that Cas moved within him, taking the utmost care to keep him comfortable. As much as he appreciated the angel’s ability to remain levelheaded even at the most intimate of times, he wanted more from him. He wanted to see him let go, he needed to see him brought down to his level. “Cas,” Dean breathed.

Castiel opened his eyes and looked down at Dean.

Dean sighed, his body feeling far more loose and relaxed than he ever thought possible. “Take what you need Cas.”

Castiel held onto Dean’s thighs and began to move with greater purpose. “If at any point… things should become… overwhelming,” he warned, his voice growing considerably less calm by the second. “Let me know.”

Dean nodded weakly. Cas might as well be asking him to calculate the distance between the earth and the sun. His brain was on hiatus. His body had taken over and that was perfectly fine by him. His spatial awareness seemed to blur. He could hardly feel the mattress beneath him. His senses were on overload. There was only Cas, and Cas was everything.

Castiel was insatiable. Eight years of wanting Dean had brought him to this point, and he still found that nothing had prepared him for the desperate way that he ached even while buried inside the object of his desire. Even holding back as he was, he still assailed Dean with a demanding that no human could ever hope to match. Each inarticulate little punched out sound further served to drive his need. There was only Dean, and Dean was everything.

At one point Castiel slowed down just enough to torture Dean with a series of sensuous kisses, the slight oxygen deprivation making him feel as though he was floating, each of his nerve endings firing with increased sensitivity. Only when his twice-spent cock began to harden again and brush wetly against their stomachs did Cas growl against his lips and resume his brutal pace.

From what seemed like a million miles away Dean could hear the sound of his headboard slamming against the wall as though it were possessed. He had no possible way of knowing just how long Cas had been fucking him. Time itself didn’t seem to exist. He only knew that he had come yet again somehow, cock untouched, to which Cas’ response had been to bury his face in the crook of his neck and fuck him even harder.

Dean had gotten his wish. Gone was the cool and collected Cas that he was so accustomed to seeing. This Cas was pure id, uninhibited aggression, and raw sexuality. He was lost inside Dean, driving them both half-mad in the relentless pursuit of pleasure. Dean didn’t want it to end because it felt amazing, but Cas was killing him with sensory overload. Dean knew he couldn’t take much more of this, especially since Cas was showing no signs of tiring. He needed release.

“Cas…” Dean said, his voice ragged. “I need you to come…”

Castiel stared down at his hunter, the vast depths of his eyes drawing Dean in even further.

 _Oh God…_ “Just let go,” Dean groaned, already on the brink of a dry orgasm. “Please Castiel...” Cas’ gorgeous eyes closed at that, and his hips stuttered, breaking rhythm. Dean didn’t let up. He dropped his hands down to Cas’ ass, summoning the last reserves of his strength to hold on, pulling him in as tight as humanly possible, his thighs squeezing around his waist. “That’s it Cas, just like that, come on…”

Three powerful thrusts, then Castiel let out the most sinful moan and gripped onto Dean’s hipbones like a drowning man.

A flood of delicious heat and Dean came again with a contented sigh, his body shuddering with a million lingering aftershocks. _Holy fucking shit…_ He wanted to go completely limp, to simply lie there and perhaps pass out into sleep or death, he was too tired to care which, but his pride wouldn’t allow it. With shaking hands he patted Cas on the back and nudged his cheek against where Cas’ head was now lying on his shoulder. “Cas,” he sighed weakly. “Not trying to kill the moment, but you are heavy and I’m barely breathing as it is...”

Obligingly Castiel rolled off of Dean and onto his back, staring up at the ceiling in amazement. “I must confess,” he breathed, “I often wondered what it was about intercourse that you humans found so appealing. It always seemed so messy and clumsy… a needless expenditure of energy that could be better focused towards other ventures.” He closed his eyes, his calm demeanor gradually restoring itself. “It was an utter mystery as to why you all pursued it with such single-minded determination, often to your own detriment. Now I understand.”

Dean couldn’t help laughing quietly. “Not so mysterious anymore, huh?” He glanced over at his lover, feeling genuine pride at this fresh accomplishment of reshaping Cas’ worldview. “And it’s not like you haven’t done it before.”

“I have, but not with you,” Castiel sighed. “There exist no words in English nor Enochian to describe it.” He turned to look at Dean, and the hunter was relieved to see that his eyes were their normal placid blue again. “How do you feel?”

“Like I just got fucked by a wavelength of celestial intent,” Dean quipped. He let Cas take hold of his hand, twining their fingers together. _I didn’t hate it. I guess we’ll be using the other bottle of lube after all._ “I still can’t believe you actually thought I was willing to give this up, all because of some stupid skin mag.”

“Perhaps it was a slight overreaction on my part,” Castiel admitted. “The book itself was of no consequence, yet when I felt your apprehension, the sheer level of anxiety, I let my doubts get the best of me.”

“Yeah well, communication never really was our strong point,” Dean conceded, making a mental note to have a serious talk with Cas about these doubts of his some other time, when he was sufficiently well-rested and ideally fully dressed. “But you should know by now, that if I were ever having second thoughts, I would come to you like a man. And I would trust in you not to vaporize me for speaking my mind,” he added, pleased to see that it earned him a wry look. “But to be perfectly honest with you, I don’t think it’s gonna be an issue.”

Castiel’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Dean could feel it again, that thing that once said could not be unsaid. He was venturing into uncharted territory now, on the brink of stepping on the mother of emotional landmines. _Nope. Not doing this. Not tonight._ “You’re a man of your word Cas,” he declared, falling back on the familiar. “Consider me ruined. So it’s pretty safe to say that you’re stuck with me. I’m not going anywhere.” He could feel Cas’ eyes on him, his skin warming all over. “Anyway, this is usually the part when I grab something to drink, but I can’t feel my legs so…”

Remembering Dean’s request not to teleport in his room, Castiel climbed out of the bed and stood up. Before Dean could get out a word of protest, he opened the bedroom door and strode out into the hallway, completely nude.

Dean didn’t even have the energy to pull a sheet over himself, let alone get up and close the door. He sincerely hoped that Sam was not roaming the halls this time of night or he was going to get an eyeful. _Sorry in advance, Sammy._ He sighed and waited anxiously for the squawk of indignation that would clue him in as to whether or not he should expect to get bitched out by his brother in the near future.

Castiel returned to the room with a glass of water a few minutes later. After closing the door, he handed it to Dean, settling back down beside him on the bed.

Dean took a gulp. “Thanks,” he said after a moment. “You didn’t traumatize my brother by streaking through the kitchen in your birthday suit, did you?”

Castiel shook his head. “Sam was not there.”

Dean snickered. “Knowing Sammy, he probably barricaded himself somewhere safe as soon as my headboard started up the never-ending drum solo.” He sipped some more water. “You really weren’t bullshitting me when you said things might get overwhelming.”

“I did warn you,” Castiel murmured, silently counting the freckles on Dean’s shoulders. “You asked me if it was dangerous, and I told you that it was extremely dangerous. Yet you remained undeterred.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Like I said, I’m not a quitter. Besides, I knew that if it were really that life-threatening for me, you never would’ve agreed to begin with. But I guess I kind of thought that you were going to take it easy on me, on account of it being our first go round and all.” He tipped his glass back.

Castiel leaned his head to the side and stared at Dean in confusion. “I did.”

Dean choked on his water. _Jesus Christ! That was him holding back?! What the hell did I get myself into?!_

Castiel reached over and took the glass from Dean, before setting it carefully on the nightstand. “Are you truly alright?” he asked, his eyes studying Dean.

“Well…” Dean sighed. “On the one hand I feel better than I have in years, but I am definitely gonna be in a world of hurt once this post-sex high wears off,” he admitted. “I’m sore in places that I didn’t even know I could get sore.” He chuckled and stretched tentatively, only wincing slightly. “But I’ll live. Thanks for your concern.”

Castiel looked at Dean for a moment and then reached out a hand to place on his shoulder.

Dean intercepted Cas’ hand. “What are you doing?”

“Healing you,” Castiel replied as though the answer should be obvious. “You’re in pain because of me. Let me help.”

“Cas, no,” Dean sighed. He rubbed Cas’ fingers in his palm before raising his hand to his lips and giving it a tender kiss. “Cool it on the healing for a minute, okay? I kind of want to just bask in it a while. It’s a good thing.” He settled back into the pillows, his eyes closing. A second later they opened. “Oh God.” He groped blindly for the glass of water.

“What’s wrong?”

“I kissed your fingers,” he said, his hand finally finding the glass. He sighed with relief as he raised the glass to his lips. He took a long swallow before speaking. “I somehow forgot they were in my ass a while ago.” He raised the glass to his lips again.

“So was my penis,” Castiel said, his brows furrowed. “Does this mean that from now on, you will no longer give me oral pleasure?”

Dean never dreamed he could spit water such a distance.

 

* * *

 

Inching down the hall towards the kitchen the next morning, Dean was seriously starting to reconsider not taking Cas up on his many offers to heal him of any lingering discomfort. The angel had offered no less than twenty times during the night, to which Dean’s response had been to tell him to either shut up and pretend to sleep, or he was kicking him out of the bed despite his complete lack of energy and inability to even lift his foot without his hamstrings howling in indignation.

Dean felt it was a matter of principle. He had chosen this, chosen Cas as he was, no apologies, no regrets. It might take some getting used to, in particular he was thinking about trying to surreptitiously pick his brother’s brain for a few stretching techniques in the near future, but aches and pains aside, he was thoroughly pleased with his choice. Asking Cas to heal him after the fact would be like admitting defeat, not to mention his worry that doing so would make Cas far less likely to let go and give in the way he had last night.

Dean was no stranger to good sex, but that experience was in a category all its own. Cas had been right, there were no words in English nor Enochian to describe it. All he knew was that he wanted more, as soon as time and physical ability would allow. For that, Dean would endure any manner of muscle fatigue that caused him to feel like he had just completed a triathlon.

As his eyes landed upon Sam seated at the kitchen table, Dean quickly forced himself to straighten up, ignoring the agony in his back and stomach. He strode calmly across the kitchen and fixed himself a cup of coffee. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Sam replied casually. “How’d you sleep?”

Dean wasn’t too exhausted to miss the tiniest note of amusement in his brother’s question. _I guess that answers the question of whether or not the sound of a headboard travels through walls._ “Great,” he replied, as he walked back over to the table. He settled down into his chair, determinedly ignoring the way that the uncomfortable wood seemed to be taunting him.

“So,” Sam said.

Dean groaned inwardly. _Great. Freaking great. Now this is the part where he tells me I need to soundproof my room or some crap like that._ “So?”

Sam hesitated, caught between his natural scientific curiosity and the part of his mental self-preservation that wanted to know as little as possible about his brother’s sex life with their best friend. “…How was it?” he asked finally.

Dean blinked. That was the last thing he’d been expecting. Still, this was good. If Sammy was cool enough with things to ask a question like that, this entire crazy situation might just work out after all. Although it was probably best that he didn’t go into too much detail. “Uh, fine.”

Now it was Sam’s turn to blink. “Fine?”

Dean shrugged and took a sip of his coffee, doing his best to play it cool. “Yeah. Fine. What’d you expect me to say? That there was a glitter canon? Maybe some string lights? Love Me Like You Do started playing in the background?” He shrugged again. “I mean, it was fine. It’s just sex.”

“Oh,” Sam replied. “Okay then.” He returned his attention to his breakfast. “So you’re good?”

“Of course I’m good,” Dean answered, trying to remember just where the hell he had put the aspirin. “Never better.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Sam said. “Because I found a case in Maine. I know that’s about a twenty-seven hour drive if we push straight through, more if we stop for breaks.” He took a bite of his toast. “I just wanted to make sure you were up for it, considering that… well you know. But if you’re good, then let’s hit the road after you finish eating.”

Dean set his cup on the table. There was pride, and then there was self-torture. _Aspirin be damned._ “Cas!”


End file.
